


Of Frightened Bones.

by demonsonthemoon



Series: Conducting Symphonies. [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Awkward Conversations, Hospital Setting, M/M, Newt confesses to being kind of a creeper, two nerds try to find out what kind of relationship they want with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/pseuds/demonsonthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermann Gottlieb woke up in a hospital room, he wasn't expecting Newton Geiszler to burst in a few minutes later.</p><p>He didn't really know how to react.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Frightened Bones.

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to lycanandproud on tumblr because  
> 1\. She asked for it.  
> 2\. She beta'ed both the original fic and this one.  
> 3\. She constantly falls in love with inanimate objects and it's honestly quite endearing.  
> 4\. She is awesome.

_“Fueled by a nervous system_  
Thrust through the great unknown  
A timid mess  
Of frightened bones”

_\- “Circuits and Wires” by Motion City Soundtrack._

 

Hermann Gottlieb opened his eyes slowly, confused at the whiteness of the walls around him. He groaned slightly when he realised that he had simply fallen asleep in his hospital bed. The book he had been reading had been carefully closed by someone else and was now lying on his bedside table, right next to his cellphone.

Hermann ran a hand through his hair, still drowsy from the sedatives they had given him before his arthroscopy. He stifled a yawn.

He couldn't feel any pain from his hip, though that would most likely change once all of the anesthetics wore off. Curiosity got the best of him, and he lifted one side of his hospital gown.

The bruises weren't as bad as he had expected, if he was honest with himself. The pain from his fall had been intolerable and it seemed unfair for it to leave only such a discreet mark. Of course, the damage had been done beforehand, inside his own body. His hipbones rubbing against each other had caused a labral tear. Hermann's fall had been a result of his hip locking while he had been descending stairs, nothing but a silly and humiliating accident.

He sighed and covered himself with the gown again.

Hermann took his phone in one hand, noticing that it was already four in the afternoon. He still had a few hours to wait though, since he would only be let out in the evening. With a sigh, he propped himself upwards on his pillow and took up his copy of Good Omens again.

A quarter of an hour later, his reading was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in," Hermann said, expecting to see a nurse.

Instead, he was greeted by a shy smile from Newton Geiszler.

"Hi," the newcomer said, worrying the string of his worn grey hoodie.

Hermann had frozen in place, one hand still holding his book. He had no idea what the other man was doing here, or how he had even known where Hermann was. Hell, he had had no idea that Newton was in Berlin in the first place. Was that a guitar on Newton's back?

Still a bit sleepy, Hermann was having a hard time making sense of the situation.

"Um. You didn't really tell the staff whether you were okay with visitors or not so... I mean, I can leave if you want."

"What are you doing here?"

The words came out harsher than he had intended, and Newton visibly flinched. Hermann wouldn't take them back though. Even through the haze of sleepiness and medication, there was anger rising inside him. Anger at Geiszler for coming in unannounced, for being so unpredictable, for seeing him in such a vulnerable state. Anger at himself for still seeing his condition as a weakness. Anger at his own body for its continuous failings.

"I'm... uh. I..." Newton seemed embarrassed, or perhaps even scared. He was staring at his own hands. "I wanted to see how you were?" He looked up at Hermann, who was frowning. "I mean... Probably half of it is due to me having really bad impulse control, but I came back to Berlin yesterday morning, and I wanted to see how you were doing but then I heard that you were in the hospital and so... I came here."

Hermann's frown deepened. Things didn't make any more sense, even after the man's explanations. Newton was his colleague. Most days, he was also his friend, though they still had regular arguments that constantly endangered that position. Newton Geiszler was someone he admired. Someone he had shared intimacy with, in the form of sex. Never this kind of intimacy.

"You wanted to see how I was doing? Why didn't you just send me an e-mail? Or call me?"

Newton flinched again, looking up at the ceiling and biting his lower lip.

"I... Okay, there's no way I'm gonna be able to say this without sounding like a creeper, but... I kind of have a few friends at the Berlin Symphonic that keep me updated about you?"

Hermann raised an eyebrow.

"Not in a creepy way! Just... You know... We don't actually... talk a lot. Anymore. After we met IRL for the first time... I wasn't sure you actually wanted to talk to me. Except for, like... the concerts. And yeah."

Hermann could feel a headache slowly forming behind his temples, despite the medication still in his system. He was scared of the fact that there was actually some logic behind Newton's words. He knew the pianist well enough, and enjoyed his company, but never actively sought his presence outside of the set environment of their work-places. In Newton's mind, that would probably have been proof enough that Hermann didn't want to be bothered by his presence, which would justify asking another person for information on his well-being. It made sense somehow, but Hermann would have to take steps to discourage this practice.

"I'm doing fine," he replied, not sure what else to say. In a way, he was flattered that Newton had come. His company wasn't unwanted just... unexpected. Odd.

"Yeah, um, sorry," Newton said with a disbelieving smile. "But you're in a hospital. So I might need a bit more information before I believe you."

Hermann rolled his eyes.

"I suffered from a labral tear caused by my femoroacetabular impingement. My leg locked at an inopportune moment and I fell, which is why I was transported to the hospital. I underwent an arthroscopy that went well, and will be released this evening. Does that count as sufficient information?"

Newton kept staring at him, seemingly stuck in place. Hermann ran a hand through his hair.

"Sit down, Newton. You look absolutely ridiculous standing there."

The pianist finally moved, taking the plastic chair that had been dejectedly standing in a corner of the room and pulling it closer to Hermann's bed. He carefully propped his guitar against the wall, making sure it wasn't going to fall. Hermann followed his movements with an intrigued gaze.

"I'm sorry for coming here unannounced. I'm glad you're okay and... Well... Thank you for not kicking me out. And thank you for... telling me."

"Well, my right leg is still really weak, so I wouldn't have been able to kick you even if I wanted to."

Newton gaped at him, mouth open, before the conductor raised an eyebrow and they both broke into laughter.

"God, Hermann, give me some warning before you crack a joke. I have to be prepared for these things."

Hermann rolled his eyes but kept smiling good-naturedly. The awkwardness and embarrassment he had felt when Newton had barged into his room had dissipated slightly. Not for the first time, he wondered what could have been between the two of them if they hadn't clashed so badly on the day they first met.

He had thought about it before. Had thought about it the first time he had kissed the pianist, something he had done without thinking about it, because it had just seemed to be the thing to do. Maybe there was something to salvage. Maybe the fact that Newt was there right now meant that their first meeting didn't really matter in the end.

"Your behaviour confuses me to no end, Newton."

"Oh god, dude, same."

Hermann rolled his eyes.

****

Newt finally relaxed a bit as Hermann rolled his eyes. He settled more comfortably into his chair and watched the conductor with an amused smile. It was reassuring to see Hermann act the same way he always did, even while lying in a hospital bed. Newt had been panicking, he could admit that to himself. After having heard that Hermann had hurt himself, Newt hadn't really stopped to think about anything. He had been functioning on auto-pilot, asking for more information and making his way to the hospital without registering anything of what he had been doing.

He kind of regretted it now, could see how it probably didn't make any sense in Hermann's mind. When had they ever done something like this for each other? Sure, Newt carried a lighter for when Hermann forgot his, despite his constant protestations that the conductor shouldn't be smoking in the first place. And Hermann shared chamomile tea with him after rehearsals gone wrong. But those were little things. Things they could pretend had never happened when they were shouting at each other at the top of their lungs in a music room that amplified all of their vitriolic words. This was something different. Intimate in a way that for once wasn't sexual. Intimate in a way Newt wasn't used too.

"And why in the name of all that is holy are you carrying a guitar with you ?"

Hermann's voice interrupted the pianist's train of thoughts like a loud drum crashing through a clarinet solo. Newt had to take a second to make sure he had understood the question properly. Then he turned to the aforementioned instrument, still in its case, lying against the wall.

He felt a blush creep his way across his cheeks. He carefully pushed his glasses up his nose before replying. "I... um. I... play it ? The guitar, I mean. Not well. Or not... professionally. Just... I don't know, it helps me take a break from the piano. From the pressure that surrounds it sometimes. It lets me go back to why I started playing music in the first place, you know ?"

He was scratching at the back of his neck, looking up towards Hermann in the hope that the other man would get it. He didn't know why he felt embarrassed. It was a hobby like any other. The fact that he was a concert pianist didn't have anything to do with it.

Hermann looked surprised, definitely, but his face also had a soft expression that could maybe pass as more than just fleeting interest.

"It still doesn't explain why you have it with you," the conductor said.

Newt opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. He swallowerd once before finally speaking. "I'm not sure actually ? I think it was still in the car when I drove here. I must have grabbed it by reflex. Leaving it in the cold can distort the strings so..." He shrugged.

Hermann nodded, as if Newt's explanation made perfect sense, even if it didn't. The pianist started playing with the string of his hoodie, self-consciously looking at the ruffled sheets of Hermann's bed.

"I can... like... Play you something, if you'd like ? Not if you don't want to, of course. I mean, I'm not really good, or anything, but I can play a few songs and I thought that since you have to stay here until the evening it might be... fun ?"

Nice one, Geiszler, he thought to himself. That didn't sound desperate at all.

"That would actually be nice."

Newt raised his head so quickly he actually hurt his neck a little, which Hermann apparently found hilarious since he started smiling. Newt was too surprised to be offended.

"You're serious ?"

Hermann rolled his eyes. "Yes, Newton, I am. Since your presence here is already a given and since you have – I will admit – struck my curiosity with this sudden reveal of your hobby, I would actually appreciate it if you played something."

"Oh my god," Newt quickly replied, the pitch of his voice rising uncontrollably. "Could you cut back on the sarcasm and be nice for this one time ? I fucking drove all the way here to visit you ! And you didn't even tell me you were in the hospital !"

"I had no idea you were even in Berlin !" Hermann exclaimed, punctuating his sentence with a movement of his right hand. "And if I did, I would have seen no reason to make you privy to my health issues."

"Whatever, man. Maybe I actually care about you."

It was awkward. He knew it as he said it, and ducked his head, fumbling with the zipper of his guitar case to cover his embarrassment. Fortunately, Hermann didn't say anything.

Newt pulled out his accoustic guitar and tried to find a comfortable position on the hospital's plastic chair. He propped the instrument on one knee, quickly checked the tuning by ear, then looked up. Both men were still silent, but Hermann's gaze on him wasn't unkind. Newt could see that he was tired and frustrated, and realized that the conductor might have just been embarrassed too, at Newt showing up unexpectedly like this.

The pianist bent his head, reached for a plectrum and started picking a few chords. "It's a classic," he thought as he started singing the words to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. "But at least it's a good classic."

The song was simple to play, the chords fairly basic, so Newt let himself focus on his voice instead, on all the emotion he could put into it.

"Your love is not a victory march,  
It's a cold and it's a broken  
Hallelujah."

The song came to an end on a long note that Newt didn't quite manage to hold steady, but Hermann was still smiling as he looked up.

The conductor's expression turned into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow. "The song's a tad dramatic, don't you think ? It feels out of character, for you."

"I don't know if you're trying to insult me or Leonard Cohen, here," Newt replied in a fakely dry manner. "But either way..." He raised his middle finger at his colleague, who rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Also, Highway to Hell didn't really feel appropriate to a hospital setting."

Hermann laughed, softly and quietly. Newt couldn't help but smile back. He kind of wanted to kiss the other man. Just because it would probably feel nice. He started fiddling with his guitar instead, not playing any song in particular but going from one note to the next with a musical instinct he knew a lot of people envied.

"Hey, Hermann ?" he started again after a minute of silence.

"Hum ?" the other man replied, distracted. Probably tired because of his surgery.

"Could we like... stay in touch, maybe ? Like we used to before ?" He ran a hand through his hair, watching Hermann as the man followed his movements. "So I don't have to act like a creeper to know you're okay ?"

Hermann sat up a little bit to look at Newt more direcly. The pianist felt a bit self-conscious under such scrutiny, but didn't move.

"I think I would like that, actually."

"Nice. That's nice."

The both stayed in place, eyes locked with each other. Newt was first to look away.

"How about some Metallica ?"


End file.
